


The Bird's Eye View of Gotham

by genmitsu



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blimp, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 15:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14358267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Alternative ending to the 4x18 episode. Blatant porn.For the Gobblepot Spring 2018 event.Prompt: Birds“Just what is so amusing, Jim?”“Nothing,” Jim says, but that doesn’t convince Oswald at all.“So you think it’s a neat idea to spend the night in this accursed blimp?” Oswald says, vexed, his voice rising. “I have concerns for your mental health then, Jim.”





	The Bird's Eye View of Gotham

 

 

“So this was your bright idea? Really, Jim?”

“Oh, shut up,” Jim grumbles. After the day he’s had being stranded in a - thankfully non-toxic anymore - blimp with Oswald as his sole companion was simply a cherry on top of the cake. Jim never was one for sweets.

Oswald is sitting in the corner on some crate. He’s clearly ruffled by the day’s events, not even bothering to keep his cool anymore. Then again, Jim sighs, he never did around him. And he always reacted to Jim’s riling him up so openly, never pulling his punches or hiding vulnerabilities. Somehow Jim doubts ‘the Penguin’ acts this way around anyone else.

Jim sets the rudder wheel in the position and fixes it. How did he get into this mess again?

Right. Saving the city from the deadly lunatic gas, trying to get the damn blimp back to the ground. And it worked out so well at first. The standby pilot helped Oswald maneuver the blimp to the docks area over the phone, then they chose a high enough warehouse to offload the gas canisters, and Oswald found the lever that lowered the emergency ladder that allowed Jim to climb into the blimp and help him steer it while the rest of the officers took the canisters away.

And just before they were ready to get off and the pilot was almost there too… the anchoring rope broke off, and the blimp was swept away by a sudden gust of wind. It swept them further down the river, and the wind direction was so unfavourable that the pilot flat out told them they wouldn’t be able to steer the blimp closer to the city in a safe way. He just advised them to sit tight, said ‘ _fuel’s still good to last you till morning and then the wind will change_ ’. Oswald just stomped away to the farthest side of the cabin, cursing under his breath, as Jim listened to the pilot’s directions about drifting the blimp safely, tuning Oswald out. But now, when all was done and he only needed to check the position in an hour or so… he couldn’t ignore him anymore. Especially since he was glaring at Jim as if it was his fault.

Jim walks to the crates and flops beside Oswald who jerks a little in surprise. He looks at Jim, a bit confused, a bit angry still, and Jim can’t help but grin. Oswald looks like a bird and they’re flying and okay, it’s kinda funny. It could’ve been a lot less funny if the one in the blimp wasn’t Oswald. Gotham really owed him a big one.

“Just what is so amusing, Jim?”

“Nothing,” Jim says, but that doesn’t convince Oswald at all.

“So you think it’s a neat idea to spend the night in this accursed blimp?” Oswald says, vexed, his voice rising. “I have concerns for your mental health then, Jim.”

“Hey, I’m not enjoying this any more than you do!” Jim raises his hand, placating. “It could’ve been worse, that’s all.”

“Worse?” Oswald jumps to his feet. “Worse?! Just how much worse _could_ it be, tell me, Jim? How _much_ worse?” He starts walking back and forth, gesticulating nervously. “I’ve been forced to play along with a bunch of lunatics! Then I was knocked out and put here, for Heaven’s sake! Then I call you to ask for help and instead of helping, you want to keep me steering this rotten thing, and then I get trapped here once again!” He stops in front of Jim, looking down at him with blazing eyes. “So tell me, Jim, please, how much worse could it be?”

“You could’ve ended up here alone, you know,” Jim says, his temper rising in turn. “Who’d listen to you vent then? Birds?”

“So what, you want me to be grateful for it? For your company?”

“You could at least try not to be _un_ grateful for it!” Jim barks in return, standing up as well and locking his eyes with Oswald’s. “I’ve had a lousy day myself, do you think I wouldn’t prefer to be at home right now?”

Oswald glares at him, and there’s something between them that is so tense Jim feels it could be as explosively dangerous as the offloaded toxin, but then Oswald drops his gaze and turns his head.

“I’m hungry,” he says, irrationally.

Jim rolls his eyes and rummages through his pockets. “Here,” he says, shoving an energy bar into Oswald’s hand grudgingly. “Not much, but can tide you over.”

He sits back and watches Oswald stare at the energy bar, and then he meets Jim’s eyes again, all anger seeped out of him. There’s wonder in his expression, and Jim shrugs. “I keep a few on me for stakeouts. The taste’s so-so, but hey, better than starving.”

“...Thank you,” Oswald says then, quietly, and sits beside him. He opens the bar and bites into it in a rush. The second bite is more slow, and the third one doesn’t come. Instead, Oswald holds the bar out to Jim.

“Half, Jim? You must be hungry as well.”

Jim smiles a little, and takes a bite of the bar as Oswald holds it. Something in his face changes then as he stares at Jim in fascination.

“It’s fine,” Jim says, chewing. “Eat the rest.”

Oswald looks at the remaining piece of the bar as if it was something else entirely, something he might’ve wanted to keep instead. He brings it tentatively to his mouth and bites a lot more delicately, and somehow Jim can’t look away from his lips. And it’s also so natural then to reach out and brush the stray crumb off the corner of Oswald’s otherwise perfect mouth, right until he looks back into his eyes and sees shock there.

“You had a little something there,” Jim says in explanation, his hand falling back.

“Oh,” Oswald breathes. “I see.”

He shifts a little on his crate then, and now they’re almost touching, and Jim didn’t know he wanted that until he did. He sits rigidly, not wanting to disturb this fragile moment, enjoying the warmth coming from Oswald’s proximity. He feels like he has to say something else now; something akin to panic beating inside his head, and he searches and searches for the right words.

“I know you’re not happy about it, Oswald,” he says softly. “But I’m glad it was you here. You saved the city today.” And, after a pause, “Thank you.”

“You’ve already thanked me, Jim,” Oswald says sheepishly.

“That was on behalf of the city, you know? This one’s from me.”

“Oh,” Oswald shifts again, and their shoulders are half an inch away from touching and it’s unbearable. “This does make me feel better.”

“Good,” Jim grins. “Maybe you’ll rethink your criminal ways yet, huh?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Jim Gordon,” Oswald smiles back. “You know who I am.”

“Yeah,” he says, remembering the morning. “An honest criminal.”

Jim doesn’t want to be so rigid, and he doesn’t want to be wanting this, but somehow he’s still tense from their little confrontation and Oswald provokes such strange reactions in him, always, and Jim feels his words come spilling without being properly filtered in his head.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t take advantage of this opportunity, then,” Jim continues. “Not your style.”

“Were you surprised though, Jim? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I think I do. But… you just never know with people these days,” Jim says, his shoulders so, so stiff.

“Oh, I could never risk you like that, Jim,” Oswald shakes his head and they almost touch.

“You didn’t even know I was down there, Oswald.”

“Don’t pretend, please. You honestly mean to tell me you wouldn’t have been lost to me the moment I released the toxin?” Oswald turns to Jim then and his face is so close that Jim just loses whatever he had in his mind and just stares.

“See, that’s what I thought,” Oswald says, interpreting Jim’s silence as confirmation.

He stands up and walks to the window, looking out into the darkness. Jim watches him, his eyes glued to the slight figure in front of the window, visible only because the walls are light-coloured. Just what has gotten into him? Why is he so entranced by Oswald’s every move? But ever since he came to him this morning, wanting to help and get help, wanting Jim’s protection and assurance, Jim’s head hasn’t been thinking straight at all. Oswald was so, so infuriating sometimes, too clever, too scheming, always trying to one-up Jim… no. If Jim was honest with himself, Oswald was just trying to get one step ahead of everyone, not just police or him in particular. And if Jim’s going to be honest with himself still, it was high time he admitted he didn’t really mind having him as the king of the underworld. He was valuable. Honest. Loyal.

Jim never thought he’d ever attribute such words to a criminal. But Oswald was always… special. Jim knew in his heart that he sought out Sofia not only because she was a Falcone and an aid against Penguin’s one-upping the whole of GCPD, but because he was trying to scratch a personal itch. It didn’t help, at all. She just wasn’t Oswald. Sofia was useful, but she didn’t have any of Oswald’s warmth. Jim always felt cold with her, even when they were having sex, even when they kissed. It was just calculation, him using her. But with Oswald… Their eyes just met and Jim was running hot in seconds, acting all brash, showing a lot more than he wanted to. And if he was getting so hot just from looking at Oswald and talking to him, what would happen if they kissed? A combustion, certainly.

“Oh,” Oswald says softly. “Seagulls.”

He sounds so impressed and gentle and Jim can’t hold back. After the day he’s had… he wants something hot and soft and welcoming, and he’s sure Oswald would welcome Jim’s reassurance, that he would like to know his feelings aren’t unrequited, never were.

Jim walks up to Oswald, standing behind him, and looks out the window. There’s a flock of seagulls there, the moon shining onto their white feathers and illuminating them like small sparks in the darkness.

“Beautiful,” Jim says, and his gaze slides over Oswald, taking him in - the ruffled soft hair, the pale stripe of skin over the collar, and then he turns, and his face is so close, and his smell is so nice, and Jim says “Beautiful” in a soft voice once again before he cups Oswald’s cheek and kisses him.

The blood rushes to his everything at once, it seems, the wave of heat washing over him, engulfing and all-consuming, as his lips caress Oswald’s mouth and it becomes so much more when Oswald whimpers and clutches at Jim’s lapels, bringing him closer and finally answering him with the same heat he responded to Jim’s jibes. Jim hums and wraps his hand around Oswald’s waist, and he’s pressing him to the wall of the cabin then, because there just isn’t enough contact between them. Jim wants more, a lot more than this. Oswald’s body is so wonderfully warm, his movements exciting, and he wants Jim, really wants him, and it’s such a high to feel _this_ wanted.

“Jim,” he breathes when they part. “Oh God, Jim… why did you wait so long?”

“I’m stubborn,” Jim grins against his mouth, kissing him again.

“Not always a good thing,” Oswald smiles back, his tongue sneaking in a lick and Jim is buzzed, intoxicated, and their kiss deepens, and it’s hot, so hot.

Jim presses closer into Oswald, his hand sliding over his waist, over his chest and Jim wants to touch more of his skin. He trails kisses down Oswald’s neck, yet the collar stops him so soon, and it’s just not enough. He kisses the soft spot under Oswald’s jaw and breaks away. Oswald looks so sinfully affected, his perfect mouth agape, his pupils blown, his breath erratic.

“A little help?” Jim asks, tilting his head. “Unless you want to stop.”

“Don’t you dare stop, Jim Gordon!” Oswald exclaims, his hand flying to the collar and unbuttoning it in a hurry. “You’ve made us wait long enough like this!”

Jim smirks and tugs the tie off Oswald’s neck, and proceeds to unbutton his suit jacket and vest, Oswald helping him out, his movements hurried. But when they get to the shirt buttons, Jim takes Oswald’s hands and pins them to the wall above his head, smirking. He unfastens the first button, and the next, his gaze firmly locked on Oswald’s, noticing the blush getting deeper, the breath breaking once more, and God, Oswald is trembling and Jim hasn’t even done that much.

“So… you don’t want me to stop, Oswald?” Jim murmurs quietly, as he pops another button open and slides his finger down the exposed flesh. “Maybe you want something… particular?” he says then, rocking his hips and barely containing the moan himself, the friction unbearable on the bulge in his pants. Oswald loses all control altogether and moans for Jim, his body rocking to meet him in turn.

“What do you want, Oswald?” Jim rumbles softly in his ear, popping more buttons open. “Tell me.”

Oswald’s breath is heavy now, his chest rising and falling as if he’s been running, and he’s so hot.

“I w-want you, Jim,” Oswald speaks, tremulously, hardly believing this is really happening. “Whatever you want, Jim, I want it also.”

“Good boy,” Jim smiles and leans in to pepper his neck with kisses, sucking in the skin over the little notch between the clavicles, and he unbuttons his shirt further, tugging it out of his pants. Oswald is reacting to his ministrations as if it was his first time ever, the sensations too overwhelming to keep his cool, and Jim thinks that maybe it is the first time for him, and if he got any hotter he’d burn down to ashes.

He steps back, admiring the way Oswald looks, disheveled and flushed and so, so wanting. Jim releases his hands then and murmurs “Stop me if you don’t like it,” before dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Oswald’s pants. He lowers them to his knees and tugs the underwear down as well, and Oswald’s cock is right there in front of him, hard, ready and leaking. Jim runs his fingers gently over the length and then takes Oswald in his mouth, slowly, but as far as he can go. Oswald gasps out his name and buries his hand in Jim’s hair, and Jim looks up at him and oh, yes, that’s exactly the look he was wanting - utterly debauched and undone, and Jim’s only just started.

He hollows his cheeks and goes on to move his head up and down, Oswald tugging at his hair and it’s so, so wonderful, the hot weight of him in his mouth, pulsing, and then spilling in a rush, Oswald’s hips buckling uncontrollably despite Jim’s grip on them. Jim just smiles around him and stays there until he finishes and goes limp, and then Jim lets his cock slide out of his mouth again, and kisses its head lightly, for good measure. He stands up, swallowing and wiping at his mouth, Oswald holding on to his shoulder all the while as he rode down his orgasm.

“Jim…” he breathes out in awe and leans in to kiss him, and the kiss is wet and sloppy and electrifying, making Jim’s skin tingle with want.

Jim slips his thigh between Oswald’s legs, and his palms slide down to Oswald’s buttocks, squeezing them, kneading them, and Jim is kissing Oswald’s neck again, the gasps from the other man spurring him on to get some bites there. Oswald’s hands are undoing Jim’s shirt as well, slipping under, scraping at the flushed skin and Jim groans. Oswald chuckles at this, pressing closer to Jim yet, craning his neck just so it’s more comfortable for Jim to kiss, and his hand is on Jim’s nape, the touch both a caress and control. Jim shivers at the revelation of what it does to him, but he can only hold on for so long, and he’d rather not only have his cake, but eat it too.

“I want more,” he murmurs into Oswald’s ear then, his fingers brushing between his buttocks to indicate what he has in mind. Oswald quivers under him and nods, his hand tightening greedily over Jim’s nape while the other unzips Jim’s fly, clumsy in its haste. Jim leans into the touch, almost melting, he’s straining so hard, and there are still things to do, but Oswald’s hand is so, so close and so wonderfully hot, and maybe he should just give in.

Instead, Jim exerts all that’s left of his willpower and distances himself with a sigh. “Don’t want it over too soon,” he says, before kissing Oswald briefly and lowering himself to his knees again. He wets his fingers and circles Oswald’s entrance slowly, letting him adjust to the sensations. He keeps one steadying hand on Oswald’s hip, and nuzzles Oswald’s cock languidly as he tries to slide the finger in. Oswald gasps and jerks his hips, Jim’s finger getting forced inside all of a sudden, and then there are Oswald’s hands burying themselves in Jim’s hair as he moans.

“Someone’s in a rush,” Jim chuckles, as he continues to work Oswald, stretching him out more, adding more fingers. Oswald’s hips stutter, his cock getting harder again, as he keeps saying something completely unintelligible to Jim, something in a different language maybe, and then there’s Jim’s name again. He pauses, looking up at Oswald. He could really get used to this view.

“Jim… Just give it to me already!..” Oswald gasps, impatient, so impatient, and he tugs Jim to get up again and kisses him firmly on the mouth, greed and passion entwined, and one day Jim would certainly tell him just how much of a turn-on that is. But for now, Jim returns the kiss and then he puts his hands on Oswald’s hips again and turns him in a swift motion, making him face the window. The lights in the cabin and the darkness outside make the glass a mirror, reflecting Oswald’s flushed face, so open in his desire, and Jim’s smirk just before he guides himself inside.

Oswald’s body is hot, so hot, both yielding and resisting, everything Jim hoped for and more, and if not for that small pause he got while preparing Oswald for this, he’d have come in moments. But now he feels he can last, and enjoy it, and Oswald rocks against him ever so slightly, his eyes shut tight and his teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Open your eyes, Oswald,” Jim says, stroking his cheek. “Look at the city you’ve saved.”

Oswald obeys, but his gaze is far from the city lights below, locked on Jim’s reflection instead. Jim smiles and slides his thumb over Oswald’s lips, prompting him to open his mouth before he leans in and murmurs into his ear, “You don’t have to hold back. There’s no one here but us.”

Jim rolls his hips slowly, sliding out and pushing back in, and he takes Oswald’s cock in his hand again. The look he sees on Oswald’s face then is something straight out of his wildest dreams, he’s surrendering to Jim completely, with no reservations, and the moan he can no longer hold back is the prettiest sound that Jim’s ever heard. Jim continues moving in and out slowly, stroking Oswald in time with his own movements, and he twines his fingers with Oswald’s that are resting on the glass.

“I’ve been a fool waiting so long,” Jim says, his eyes again locked on Oswald’s in the reflection. “I’m not letting you go anymore.” He thrusts in with more force, his hand also picking up pace. “You’re mine now, all mine.”

“Jim…” Oswald gasps. “Please, Jim, yes, I’m yours, always was, please, faster!”

Jim obeys gladly, the sensations all around him almost overwhelming, and Oswald’s look is something else, something raw and intense, and he _smirks_ at Jim and clenches around him. Jim groans out loud, biting his lip, and goes even faster, Oswald bracing himself with both hands on the window and his voice is hoarse and wrecked and so perfect. A few more thrusts, a few more strokes, and Oswald is spilling over Jim’s hand again, and Jim is burying himself inside, deep, so deep, as he climaxes himself. His vision goes blurred and he sees sparks even, and what an idiot he’s been denying them both this.

He collapses over Oswald’s back, hugging him close with one arm, breathing heavily, and he doesn’t want to move at all, but it must be difficult for Oswald to support their weight, so Jim sighs and slips out with reluctance, and holds Oswald as his knees buckle.

“I’ve got you,” he smiles as he kisses the soft spot behind his ear. “I’m never letting go, Oswald.”

“Neither am I, Jim,” Oswald replies quietly, his voice rough after all of this, and he slides his hand over Jim’s. “You should prepare yourself for what it entails.”

“Yeah,” Jim leans over and turns his head to kiss Oswald on his lips again. “Give me your worst.”

 

Jim sacrifices his undershirt to wipe their mess, and his jacket to cover Oswald while he slumbers on the crates, and continues to drift the blimp closer to the city. The wind changes with the break of dawn, the first rays of sun illuminating Oswald’s sleeping face. Jim watches him with fondness and dread, because it will not be easy, the two of them, they can never have it easy, and yet Jim can’t find it inside himself to care. He’s made a lot of bad decisions he knew were bad lately, but this one - this one feels right, feels liberating. It must be all the flying, but Jim feels free as a bird as he greets Oswald waking up with a smile.

 

 


End file.
